


How is Uhura Badass? Let Us Count the Ways.

by Trekkele



Series: Trek Fest 2018 [4]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: (and contemplating murder, Gen, Kirk and Uhura Friendship, Nyota babe I'm sorry you deserve better, Shore Leave, Spock is not even mentioned in this holy shit, alien unicorns who act like cats, all - Freeform, and than miraculously not dying, as one does), away missions gone wrong, baby chekov being bullied, bamf!Uhura, because i live for that shit, but i am so fucking bad at deadlines, cameo by spock, diplomatic conferences, idk know what this is, if only we had more time, kirk dying, look they may be dating but she is so much more than that, so normal Uhura really, uhura speaks all the languages, wait yeah he is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 04:39:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15089168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trekkele/pseuds/Trekkele
Summary: The (abridged*) history of Nyota Uhura saving the Enterprise, and her crew. But mostly it’s Occasional Human Disaster Captain.By James T Kirk*That’s because the full history spans several volumes. - Leonard McCoy.A five + one story.





	How is Uhura Badass? Let Us Count the Ways.

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own Star Trek, obviously, but apparently people bash JJ regularly, and like, as much as I joke about it, he kind of introduced Star Trek to me, soooo. 
> 
> I kind of hate some of the things you’ve done man, but honestly? Thanks. I owe you.
> 
> (But also Fuck You, because WHY’D YOU KILL AMANDA AND CHRIS YOU ASSHOLE??)
> 
> Style wise I think this fic is a mess. Eh read it anyways please.
> 
> Also, catch the Jack Reacher reference.

 

Prologue.

Jim Kirk is a lot of things. He’s impulsive. And sometimes reckless, fucked up, passionate, did he mention impulsive and also overly fond of paper books (don't tell anyone).

 

He's also not an idiot. He's not going to get a second chance, not unless he plays his cards perfectly, and if he's being honest with himself he's far more interested in making friends than sleeping with everyone who catches his eye. (Which is a lot. Is it a StarFleet requirement to be pretty? Jeez.) There are plenty of people to, ah, _engage with_ , in SanFran that he won’t end up on a relatively small Starship with.

 

Which brings him back to Cadet _None_ Uhura, who, if he read the current class ranking correctly, is really fucking smart. And he likes smart people. Especially when they're smart enough to turn a drunk Jim Kirk down, because he's also, along with all those other things, trouble.

 

So he takes a deep breath, puts his metaphorical big boy pants on and drops his tray on the table across from her.

 

“So, Xenolinguistics. How many languages do you have covered already?”

 

He counts it a success that she doesn’t immediately pick up her food and move elsewhere. Not that he'd blame her, because he'd been kind of an ass last time they met.

Of course that frankly terrifying eyebrow raise helped, was that another StarFleet requirement? Because McCoy had it too, he was gonna have to start practicing that in a mirror.

 

“I am fluent in over 60% of federation languages, if that what you’re asking.“

 

Ok apparently he's been given tentative approval to remain seated, that was always nice. Although he kinda wished his jaw hadn’t just hit the floor because _wow_.

 

“60%?? Isn't that, like, what, 36 languages with multiple dialects each??”

 

Miss Genius-None Uhura gave him more of a smile than a smirk.

“About. And 20 Terran languages, give or take a dialect.“

 

He was pretty sure his staring had a level of hero worship in it now, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Some people deserved to be worshiped, and he meant that in a purely platonic sense too.

 

“My Klingon accent is awful. Don't suppose you'd be willing to help with that?“

 

Well, at least he'd managed to surprise her, even if her only indication was a slight lift of her eyebrows.

“Klingon?”

 

“Oh yeah, I once asked someone if he “ _slapped his brother with that mouth_ “ and lemme tell you that was very confusing conversation.“

 

She laughed, a clear bright sound, and honestly? He kinda wished he hadn't been such an asshole and just apologized earlier.

 

“Look, I'm sorry for being such an ass back than. I’m kind of a flirty drunk, it won't happen again.“

 

She tilted her head when she looked at him, dark eyes scanning his face. He squirmed, pretty sure he hadn't been this uncomfortable since he tried lying to his mom about the car. (Not what he’d done with it, because even _he_ couldn’t talk his way out of that, but _why_.)

 

“So you’re saying you won’t get drunk again.“

 

He was about 90% sure she was teasing him. He really hoped she was teasing him.

 

“Ah no. Probably will. But I won't flirt with you again?”

 

He didn't realize she’d answered in Andorian till later.

 

“Fair enough“

 

Academy

 

Chekov swallowed nervously. It was a cliche, is what it was. Smart boy goes to new school, smart boy gets pushed around for skipping grades and being smart at new school. Smart boy does bullies homework.

 

This was he was reduced to, a stupid American cliche. Part of him wished he could just call an uncle and tell him to take care of the problem. But he had said he could do it on his own. And he wanted them to stop, not to end up in the river.

 

Also, it may not be good for his career if they wind up dead. Maybe.

 

He pushed his back up against the bricks, because these упрямец were StarFleet, but they still smelled like a back alley.

 

Easy getting drunk and fucking around of you thought you have a “boy genius” doing your homework.

 

Well too bad. He wasn't going to give them what they wanted. Although he hoped they wouldn’t _really_ break his arm. That would be embarrassing. And it would hurt.

 

“What exactly is going on here?”

 

It would be comical, how all three of them turned around at the sound of her voice, except he was maybe a little too worried to be amused by these things right now.

 

“None of your business, Cadet.” The bigger one always seemed to jump on any opportunity to show he was in charge, but really, how smart could he be if he needed a 15 year old to do his homework?

Then again, he didn't need to be smart, just strong.

 

The woman, Chekov thought he'd seen her once with the nice Orion, Gaila, just looked at them, with very angry eyes.

She looked a little like his Uncle Anton when she glared like that.

 

“And what exactly do you think Campus Security's job _is_?”

 

She wasn't security. Chekov knew she wasn't security, but apparently these two goofs didn't. They straightened up, and the sudden lack of pressure on his shoulders almost caused Chekov to fall flat on his face. And wouldn't that be lovely.

 

But still, the idiots were gone, and he was still in one piece, and a pretty lady was smiling at him. Not a bad end.

 

Diplomatic Conference

 

Kirk, for his credit, was a shockingly good diplomat. He’d once admitted to her that he was surprised as she was, but she also remembered the way he worked a room at parties, so maybe the shock had just been a miscalculation on both their parts. He was charming and polite and smoothed down ruffled feathers like he was born to it, making her job _infinitely_ easier.

 

Except that didn't account for the other crew members, and she was fairly certain Sulu was rapsidizing about the finer points of ancient weaponry to an increasingly horrified Mergainain Diplomat, which was...not good. Mergaina was a pacifist society, to the point that the federation established a starbase in their system so that they wouldn't get outright _slaughtered_ by the pirates that had been using their star system as their own personal pantry for almost a century now.

It had actually taken StarFleet close to twelve years to get them to agree to the base, since allowing anything capable of inflicting harm in their system was against the Mergaina belief system.

 

She really didn't want to imagine what would happen if Sulu messed this up for them.

 

To be fair the Pri-eltan Ambassador was here a well, and the only difference in the species physiology was a slight ridging in their shoulder blades, something that wouldn't be visible in their sweeping ceremonial robes. That and their body language was vastly different.

 

“Ambassador,” She tried to keep her voice open and calm, since damage control was only effective if you didn't eviscerate the other party for cultural insensitivity. Better to distract them and pretend it never happened. “I don’t uppose you’ve met Lieutenant T’lena? She told me she was fascinated by your legends, about the great mothers birth and how they might have been related to the atmospheric reading we’ve received from your homeworld…”

 

Shore Leave

It’s not like she wanted to go shopping with Kirk.

Okay that was a patently untrue. Kirk, for all his many many faults, was a fantastic dresser, which was supremely unfair because he didn’t even try, every time she asked him where he picked something up he would blink, blank and uncomprehending, and just grin with “ _I have no idea”._

She didn't see the point in denying that she likes shopping. It was relaxing, browsing through the racks, picking something out and trying on ridiculous hats and shoes and occasionally finding something that couldn't be left behind. She liked looking good, she liked shopping, if anyone wanted to make a joke about it she could insult them in 73 different languages, so there.

 

Which brought her back to the market and the fact that her and Kirk’s 24 hour shoreleave coincided, and Spock and McCoy’s did not. They both wanted to go to the open market, they were both going at the same time, and here she was, shopping with Jim Kirk.

 

No one tell him she was having this much fun, he’d never let her live it down.

 

Life was truly strange sometimes, she mused over some very brightly coloured silks.

She almost tolerated Kirk these days. (Hush Spock, lying to themselves is how humans process troubling emotions.)

 

Which was, of course, when the shouting started. Why was she not surprised.

 

Actually, Jim was off to one side, watching two (purple skinned, horned, and really angry) guys yelling at each other in a tone of voice that meant “I will fuck you up, you piece of shit, just try me”, no matter what language they were speaking. She’d actually never heard this one before, but it had some base similarities to an old Frisht’ey dialect. She half wished she’d brought some of her UT-tools with her.

 

Jim spotted her across the way and his eye slid from her to the angry bull-men and back to her. They were getting louder, and started circling each other in way that meant trouble no matter how the fight ended.

Kirk started edging his way around, apparently hoping to reach her so that they could scram before his infamous luck kicked in, but the Goddess was in a gaming mood today and goddamnit how did they have this kind of luck _honestly_.

 

Kirk had made his way to about five feet from her, keeping on eye on the two screaming men and slowly sliding his way through the crowd when someone jostled him from behind and the captain went scrambling, unbalanced and tripping, directly in between the two arguing aliens.

 

Nyota found it morbidly amusing, how time slowed down when you knew something awful was about to happen. She could see the exact moment the Captain tripped, spinning slowly in place and reaching out blindly to grab something, anything so that he wouldn't land under someone's dusty boots. His eyes widened in something she could classify as panic, and then narrowed in that calculating way she associated with fire fights and StarFleet politics. And suddenly time was going at the right pace, the shouting fading from the background into high definition again. Sand was thrown in the air from the sudden scramble, and for about two seconds the captain  and the slightly larger alien stared at each other, Kirk hanging off him in what was a comical copy of those old bodice rippers Gaila was fond of. And than Kirk ducked, narrowly dodging the fist he had heard whistling through the air as the second bull-like alien took the opportunity to end the argument in a loud and bloody way.

 

Kirk was going to be caught in the crossfire if she didn’t do something, and as much as he sometimes deserved to be punched, these two looked like they could bench press him without even trying.

Also, he promised he was going to help her find some really nice boots.

 

She reached out and grabbed his sleeve, dragging him backwards without even checking if those two idiots were killing each other or kissing or whatever.

 

They stopped a few alleys down, leaning against the planets equivalent of a sandstone wall, panting heavily in the suddenly cool shade.

 

Kirk’s eyes, she noticed, were huge, almost glowing dilithium blue in the slightly darker space they occupied as the sounds of the fight being broken up echoed past.

 

He stared at he, finally nodding in what she assumed was a Thank You she didn't need him to say.

 

“Right.” He straightened up, and tugged his t-shirt and light shawl back into place. “C’mon, I found a place selling silk dresses in the _perfect_ cut, lets go.” He grabbed her hand and kept chattering about matching sandals, heeled and not, and somehow devolved into the mathematics behind small feet in heels and why they caused more pressure.

 

She smiled and followed him back out into the sun.

  


Away Mission

Nyota Uhura is no ones back up. She isn't a bit part or a supporting character or any other clever term people use when they don't want to tell you they don't think your job is important. Well, jokes on them, she _chose_ not to go into command because guess what fuckers, that power-trip shit doesn't interest her.

 

Yet here she is, captain of the goddamn flagship.

 

Oh Acting Captain, sure. And Kirk is coming back, no doubt (That little asshole better come back, how _dare_ he make her care, the stupid _dunkelbumser_ )

But for all intents and purposes she is Captain, and she has five possibly wounded and potentially dying crewmen down there and she is _really. fucking. pissed_.

 

Kirk was going to pay for this. She wanted a mani-pedi (where he learned to do that apollo only knows), his frankly fantastic taste in red wines, and he was going to listen to her bitching about her adorable-if-sometimes-annoying non-human boyfriend and his emotional repression and he was going to _like it._ And, by the goddess, _she was picking the fucking movie this time_.

 

But first she had to make sure he was alive enough to do all that. Fuck him and his inability to not-martyr himself.

 

“This is Acting-Captain Nyota Uhura of the USS Enterprise. I understand you have taken several members of our crew hostage.”

 

The definitively non-human face that filled the screen reminded Nyota of something out of her favorite fairy tales as a kid. She’d never had much time for the classic ones, preferring the kind were the princess kicked ass, the dragon was a pacifist, and they all lived happily ever after in a library. Or on a really big beach, she wasn’t picky. Yet here she was, negotiating with something that may as well be the goblin king. (Not the Bowie one. She’d never admit it to Kirk, but _damn_ , had he been right about that movie.)

 

The universal translator hissed a little, adjusting to the relatively new language with a minimal lag time. It was strange, seeing the words and facial expressions a moment before the translation echoed over the bridge. Going on their body language alone, this guy was pissed off. At least they were on even grounds there.

 

“You have dishonored the house of Ra’len-i.” The words were rough, rolling over her like pebbles in a stream. She found the texture of them beautiful, full and harsh and she almost forgave Kirk for giving her this opportunity to speak with them directly. Almost.

 

“If we have insulted you in anyway, I can assure you that this was not our intention.”

 

(She actually couldn't assure them that, because of that one time Kirk realized they were going to give him a frozen-in-terror slave boy as a peace gift and he basically needed a couple of minutes of stony silence to just..not deck the high council members, but if it was that kind of situation she would get her people back and send a big a fuck you floating back behind their warp trails. And when had Kirk become her people? Damn it)

 

The negotiations took time. The Ra’len, as they called themselves, were an insular and altogether suspicious species. Which was why they had sent the Enterprise to begin with, because maybe they were young, yeah, but they were good at this shit and the Federation figured after the Narada, stuff like this would be small fries. But apparently they forgot to mention that ambassadors to their species were _always_ female. Sending a male to negotiate a treaty was the equivalent of sending an Ensign to greet an Admiral. And she had thought she was being so generous, allowing Riley the opportunity to observe first contact.

 

Next time she was insisting on joining, selfish or not.

 

It took several hours, and a number of cultural file exchanges, but getting back the entire away team, with hardly a scratch on them, was far more than se had expected when the planet first contacted them.

All in a day's work, apparently.

  
  


Away Mission (the second)

So here's Fucked Up Fact about James T. Kirk the 43rd: he has a list if ways he thinks he's going to die. (Hint: Old age is not on it).

 

Now considering his career choice, and his “luck”, this might not be too strange. But the truth is he’s had some form of it since he was eight and his stepfather got really angry for the first time but that’s too much information, so moving on.

 

His point is, being impaled by alien unicorns was not on the list. He hadn't even considered it a _possibility_ and yet here he was, running through bluish grass and praying to Scotty that the Enterprise would somehow, miraculously, pick on the fact that he was in trouble.

Fat chance.

 

For once, this wasn't his fault. Well, not entirely.

Their hosts had said it was safe, that they could explore the fields, and rather than join Uhura's conversation on how their language had evolved or the anthro-departments frankly adorable excitement over their detailed historical files, he had wandered off to enjoy the reddish sunlight and purplish trees.

 

Which brings us back to now, being chased by fucking unicorns. What fun.

 

He could hear the away team up ahead, and wondered of his lungs would give out dramatically just as he came into view. He hoped not, Uhura would mock him for days.

(After pretending she wasn't worried and bullying him into staying in sickbay of course. )

 

He barrelled past them, probably looking like some cartoon character

 

“Fucking Unicorns”, he panted, dropping to his knees.

 

Everyone looked appropriately concerned, or maybe it was confused. Which was when the three angry unicorns, all gold horns and sparkly white manes and furious growling came into view.

 

Uhura, as usual, was the first to react. She moved in front of Jim, holding out her hands and chanting softly, almost singing.  

 

He should be less shocked it worked. Honestly, that woman. She could declare herself Captain of the Enterprise and he'd just say _sure, no problem_. He wasn’t dumb enough to argue, that's why. And, everyone would probably back her up. Especially Spock. (Lucky bastard)

 

The unicorn-but-less-friendly things slowed down, stopping in front of the communications officer and circled her like a cat with a new toy.

 

Abruptly, almost like someone flipped a switch, they all lay down, purring in time to whatever song she was humming.

 

Purring. What was his life even.

 

The ensign standing behind him giggled nervously.

 

“Weren’t unicorns supposed be attracted to virgins??” Her voice was too high pitched to be anything but panicked, but still. Even _he_ wasn't going to make that joke.

 

Jim twisted sideways, cuffing her lightly on the back of her head. “Have some respect, Ensign Laret. Besides, the word virgin originally was associated with minor goddesses and the priestesses in ancient Greece.”

 

Nyota raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“Apparently the unicorns think our Lieutenant is a deity.

 

At least they have good taste.”

 

Epilogue: One time she didn't. But also did.

 

She knew.

 

She knew the minute Scotty called it in, the minute Spock rushed off the bridge, the minute she saw them both staring at that fucking glass door as though it held the secrets of the universe.

 

The sudden rush of adrenaline, of _relief_ , that overwhelmed her when the ship stopped careening through sky was replaced by something she couldn’t, with all her languages, give a proper name.

 

Later, she would try. But somehow she couldn’t, not without picturing those dead blue eyes staring at her.

 

( _We need Khan! Get me Khan! I can save him. Just get me Khan!_ )

 

Later, she would get that feeling again, of free-falling even though she was standing perfectly still, because everything around her was going too fast.

 

( _It was horrible, waiting to see if it would work. She needed something to do. To take her mind off what they’d done._

 

_McCoy and Spock kept whispering about reports, and how to write them, and God what have they done._

 

 _“_ What was necessary _”, she says, “_ What you could” _, and takes the padd from his hands gently and begins to write._

 

 _This is what_ she _can do._ )

 

Later, when she was sitting in a sterilized room talking to a dead man, she would remember that not all things needed a name. Sometimes we just accept things as they are and move on, because anything else would just get you stuck. And they lived their life moving forward. Boldy going.

 

(" _I know you wrote those reports, Uhura."_

 

_“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Captain.”_

 

_“Please, Bones is an excellent Doctor, but his reports are never that subtle. You’re the only person I know who could write something that told the board exactly what they did without telling them what actually happened.”_

 

_“…”_

 

_“You saved his career.”_

 

_“...That’s not why I did it.”_

 

 _“It’s not the_ only _reason you did it._ Thank you.”

 

_“That’s not why I did it either.”_

 

_“I know.”)_

  
  
  


_(You need to stop saving our asses, it’s getting ridiculous.”_

 

_“With all due respect, Kirk._

Never _.”)_

**Author's Note:**

> Look I love Uhura. And I planned out 3 different fics for her, but this is the only one I managed to write.  
> And all the other fics I wrote are these deep-ish character studies and whatever, so I feel kind of bad, but I'm also fairly happy with how this came out so idk idk I'll shut up now.
> 
> dunkelbumser - someone who has sex only with the lights closed. (apparently this is a german insult and it amused me far too much not to use)
> 
> упрямец -mules. Chekov is basically calling them asses in russian.


End file.
